It started when we moved from Michigan to California. I was seven and found friends for the first time (my only pal before this was the 72 year old neighbor who let me play with her sock monkey while we sat on the porch and drank tea). And with friends came an awareness that our house was not like other houses. There was much to be embarrassed about (bird droppings on the couch from my brother's free-flying cockatiel; etchings of naked, usually fat, women; my father on sabbatical in a thread-bare bathrobe that looked like used blue tissue), but the differences between our home and my friends' was never as painfully apparent than during the weeks between Thanksgiving and News Year's.
To read about the strangely decorated trees that stood in my childhood home, please click here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/red-room/jessica-anya-blau-why-thi_b_11336...
Causes Jessica Blau Supports
Baltimore School for the Arts, 826DC, CityLit Project.